As The World Falls Down
by Lune-Solei
Summary: They were born into a world of soldiers and politicians, aristocrats and royalty. A world where there are two sides to every story, two faces to every person. Their childhood was stolen from them the moment they learned reason. 6/9/13/Dorothy-friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Gundam Wing_.  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs  
**Note:** This takes place before the series, at this point Dorothy's seven, Zechs is ten, and Treize is fourteen. The idea has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time recently. At the moment I'm not sure exactly how long it'll extend (I have about six chapters planned out already and it's still not even close to being halfway of halfway done). Please let me know your thoughts.  
**Chapter:** One: Children's Games  
**Summary:** In which Dorothy is reprimanded, Treize is provoked, and Zechs is a pacifier.

* * *

"Dorothy, sit up _straight_." The seven year old instantly squared her small shoulders and straightened her back from her position on the piano bench. Lilla Catalonia sighed and turned to her older sister with a roll of her pale blue eyes. "Honestly Aria, the child has a mind of her own. Father's right when he says they should be tamed quickly. I think she's rebelling because of Alexander being away all the time."

Aria laughs softly. "Oh, I know what you mean. When Landry's gone I don't know what to do with Treize." She eyes her niece critically. "Come here child," she calls. The music stops as the little girl approaches, staring up at her with the pale eyes of her sister. Her blonde hair is in a single, heavy plait down her back. Aria leans forward, turning Dorothy to the side and smiling. "I don't know Lilla, she seems tame enough."

"Only because she was reprimanded already," Lilla responds. She takes a long sip from her iced tea and sighs appreciatively. "I fear she's more at home in the land of war and politics than in music and art lessons."

"She'll come into her own, won't you Dorothy?" The seven year old nods confidently and Aria smiles at her. She glances out the open French doors at the back gardens. "I think Treize and Zechs are outside, why don't you join them? Get some fresh air."

"She gets enough," Lilla sighs.

"Ah, as long as she's careful to stay out of the sun, keep that fair complexion of hers…there's nothing wrong with fresh air. We were certainly out in it plenty."

"Right, and freckled rotten," Lilla laughs. "Go on then Thea, run off and play, but mind your clothes this once!" She laughs again as the child runs off, tossing her honey colored hair over her shoulder. "Oh, she'll be a mess in minutes…"

--

"I've been thinking while you've been gone." The blonde haired youth skipped pebbles idly across one of the reflecting ponds. He tilted his head back, allowing the sunlight to warm his face. Treize lifted his head; the light catching his dark hair and making it shine red. He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "I think I want to join your Specials."

"Oh?" He turned back to the rifle he was polishing. "Has my father finally succeeded in convincing you that the Alliance is righteous?"

"I saw her on TV." The older boy stops polishing and sets the rifle down slowly. "I saw how much she resembles our mother and I realized how furious I am that she will never know her. I will never know her." The pebble skipped and sank with a quiet displacement of widening ripples. "I want revenge against the Alliance. For everything they did."

"A noble cause," Treize agreed idly. He studied his friend carefully, watching the way the wind tugged at the pale blonde hair. Watched the way the slate colored eyes hardened in the young face. "Can you give up pacifism that easily?"

"It doesn't matter anymore. Just get me into OZ."

"Of course, Lake Victoria is the best Academy for Alliance trainees and _Specials_ so I'm sure Father or my uncle will want you there." His lips twisted into a smile. They both knew of his plan for the Alliance and Specials. "You will need to take orders from me you realize," he added as an afterthought.

"Why would he ever want to do something stupid like that?" Both boys looked up as the girl entered their quiet sanctuary. Her braid swayed with each step she took and Treize laughed when he saw her. "What?"

"Aunt Lilla will murder you when she sees what you've done to your clothes." Dorothy glared at him and placed her hands on her hips, ignoring the mud on the hem of her blue sundress. "It's good to see you Dorothy."

"I'm sure." She glanced over at the blonde boy and tilted her head. "Why would you want to take orders from Treize?" Her eyes fall to the rifle that is nearly as long as she is tall. "Skeet shooting later?"

"Of course," Treize replies calmly. He watches his cousin as she sits down and stares at the two older boys expectantly. Of course she would, he knows she's advanced for her age. They all are, growing up in a world of soldiers and politicians, aristocrats and royalty. Their childhood was stolen the moment they learned to reason. "Zechs is thinking of joining the Alliance."

"It goes against your ideals," she replies immediately. "You would never be able to live with yourself you realize?" She falls silent when he glares at her and she shrugs back unflustered. "Revenge is slightly melodramatic, but people seem to accept it readily enough. That's why you're doing it, right?" He nods tensely and she shrugs again. "I'll be left alone while you two are off playing soldier."

"It isn't a _game_ Dorothy," Treize admonishes. He runs a hand through his hair idly and stretches his legs before standing. He dusts off his trousers and glances behind them, toward the house and the oversized veranda with the marble columns. "Nothing in life is a game Dorothy."

"Life is like a giant chessboard Treize, just like Grandfather says." She laughs at his annoyed look. "Don't be upset that I'm his favorite and you are not." Her small hand finds Zechs'. "Can we go shooting now?"

"Of course," Zechs replies effortlessly. He is used to diffusing the arguments between the two cousins.

--

"Dorothy Marie Gabrielle Rayne Catalonia, what _are_ you doing?" She winced and ducked her head. It had always amazed her that Lilla was able to get her full name out in a single breath. Then again, she'd had lots of practice the past seven years. Her mother set the parasol tip-down and glared at her daughter. "_Honestly_ child, if your grandfather could only see you now, running around covered in _mud_ and all other sorts of _filth_, what would he say?" It was also quite amazing how shrill Lilla's voice could get when she was furious.

"I'm sure he would say she was a brute of a child and needed to be brought up short straight away." Dorothy's head snapped up and Treize leapt to catch the rifle as she dropped it. "Hello Dorothy, Treize. Ah, Zechs, looking well I see."

"Grandfather!" Dorothy yelled. She tore off across the shooting field to where the adults were standing. He caught her easily, lifting her up and smiling. "I didn't know you would be coming for a visit."

"Just a short one this time Dorothy," he says, chucking her lightly under the chin. He sets her down on the grass and looks at the two women. "Ah, Aria my dear, lovely as always." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she smiled. "Lilla, you look radiant, still hoping for a boy?" he asks, checking her blossoming stomach.

"Of course Father." He nods gravely and she frowns. "What is it?"

"Come along, let's walk and not bother the children. They'll want to get back to their shooting." He turned to Treize and eyed him. "We'll have a talk after dinner young man." Treize nodded solemnly as the old man walked off, a daughter on each arm.

"What do you suppose _that_ was about?" Zechs asked mildly. Dorothy trudged back and Treize furrowed his brow at her, glancing pointedly at his rifle. "Get off it Treize, she's a child, forget about it."

"I'm sorry I dropped it."

He eyed his cousin carefully and Dorothy met his gaze, not shying away from the bluntness of it. "I doubt that, but you are sincere." He handed her the rifle back and she took aim at the target, waiting until Zechs hit the button and one of the clay discs were released into the air. She aimed and released the trigger. The clay pigeon exploded into little bits and she grinned as the rifle was lowered. "Good aim."

"Of course," she replied, off handed. "Do you think Father will let me go to Lake Victoria as well? He always says I'm excellent at tact…at plotting since I beat him at chess constantly, and you _know_ I'm a good shot."

"You're too young _Thea_," Treize answered immediately. She glared at him and he shrugged. "Zechs just makes the age requirement now. You know they don't allow you into Lake Victoria until you're ten, and then you have to be excellent. The best there is since it's the most prestigious of the military schools."

"I _know_ that Treize, you go on about it _all_ the time." She hit the next pigeon that Zechs released without hesitation and frowned. "I'm bored with this, can't we do something else? How about fencing? I know you've gotten that new epée, don't deny it Treize, Aunt Aria was telling me about it earlier." He frowned and she smiled at him sweetly. "Surely you aren't afraid to lose to a little girl?"

"I'll fight you Dorothy," Zechs stated. He wound the controller and placed it back on the machine. "Can I use one of your swords Treize?"

Treize turned to regard them and nodded absently. "I only have one epée, if you want to fight with those you'll have to use Father's. Come on, let's go. And Dorothy, fight fair this time."

She turns to him and glares. He half expects her to stick her tongue out at him but she gave that habit up two years back when Lilla got on her case. "I _always_ fight fair Treize. It's really not _my_ fault you can't keep up." She grabbed Zechs' hand, tugging him lightly. "Come on, I can't wait to try it out."

They entered the old house and Treize followed slowly, watching the girl pulling his best friend down the halls, past tittering maids and stoic man servants. They each nod to him as he passes and he frowns, losing himself even more to his thoughts that he doesn't notice Dorothy's incessant childish prattle until it stops and she's peering up into his face.

"I thought it was only girls who were supposed to go moody when they hit puberty," she exclaimed. He glared at her and she smiled back. "Zechs and I are ready if you would care to judge?"

"Fine, fine." He took a seat and watched as they saluted each other. Dorothy was nearly as tall as Zechs and it was nearly impossible to tell them apart once they were in their fencing attire. Her hair had long ago come unbound and was just a bit longer than Zechs' own fair hair. He found it amusing that his cousin looked more like his friend's younger sister than Relena ever did. "En garde. Begin."

They circled each other slowly, striking and defending once in awhile without malice, only to judge the other's strengths. The sound of the clashing metal was monotonous after a few minutes as his eyes darted back and forth, watching the match. For a moment he thought he heard a distant scream but brushed it off as imagination. Suddenly, with a burst of aggression and speed Dorothy lunged, ducking under the boy's parry and getting first blood. She danced back and he could just imagine the smirk on her face. He smiled secretly to himself as well.

Zechs lunged at her and she twirled away, just missing his blade by a quarter of an inch at most, hitting him in the back with her own. He growled, lunged again and caught her off guard on her left shoulder. He saw the set to her shoulders, her fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword, and then she was lunging again, feinting and catching his throat with the point of the sword. Zechs stood very still, eyeing her through the mask, and she stood there for a moment before stepping back and removing her mask with deliberate grace.

"I win." She turned to the older boy and tilted her head to escape pale bangs. "Are you going to fight me or am I too brilliant?"

"You're too confident definitely," Treize replied easily. "You forget your manners Thea salute each other and shake hands." She rolls her eyes but salutes and then holds out a hand for him to shake. Both boys share a small smile when she winces at the grip and she glares back.

"Oh…" she's interrupted by the appearance of the Khushrenada's butler. Her eyebrows draw together as she stares at him. He ignores her, looking instead at Treize.

"Lady Lilla wishes your presences in Madame's quarters. She'll be there with Madame and the Doctor." He nods to the three of them while Treize frowns. "Would you like me to accompany you?"

"No, that won't be necessary James."

"Very well young Master." He bowed to each of them before backing into the hall and disappearing into the evening shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rating:** G - PG  
**Warnings:** Blood, death.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs  
**Note:** Chapter Two. This will be updated each Sunday.  
**Chapter:** Two: Ebb and Flow  
**Chapter Summary:** In which Treize shows a fondness for roses, Dorothy is manipulative, and Zechs is confused.

Zechs finds her in the center of the maze, sitting on the edge of the fountain. The skirt of her dress is hitched up above her knees and her bare feet are sunk deep into the water. He hesitates at the edge of the opening before approaching carefully and confidently all at once. She doesn't stir as he sits next to her but he sees the tear tracks down her face, can hear her shuddering breaths up close.

"What happened Dorothy?"

He hasn't seen either cousin since they went to see Aria and Lilla three hours ago. It was James who told him that Dorothy had run from her aunt's rooms and disappeared outside. He'd gotten the feeling that it was up to him to go and find the younger girl and comfort her, though he hadn't the first clue how to then. He still doesn't know how if he is perfectly honest with himself.

"Grandfather came to visit tonight, to inform Aunt Aria that Uncle Landry died – in battle." She sits up straighter and wipes her nose on her arm. "Mother's comforting Aunt Aria now, she's abed and sedated. Treize is with them still but I couldn't take it." She looks small and fragile for the first time he can remember.

"I'm sorry Dorothy."

"My father heads the Alliance now with Treize's gone. Grandfather also told us that. Mother was thrilled with the promotion of course, but she can't show it, not with her sister like that. I'm sure if it's a boy she will be expected to name it Landry or some such in honor." She wipes her eyes. "It's stupid to cry."

"No it isn't."

"It is," she insists. She stares up at him, the moonlight catching and making her pale eyes luminous. Suddenly she looks twice as old as she really is. "Grandfather said it was utter nonsense to cry for the dead since tears do nothing for them. My uncle died a brave soldier's death; it should be celebrated, not mourned. That's what Grandfather told Aunt Aria before she threw the vase at him and ordered he leave and Mother called the doctor for the sedative."

He tries to speak again, to offer some form of comfort but she brushes him off. She swings her legs over the edge of the fountain and stands slowly. "I don't need reassurance Zechs, thank you for your concern though, even if it was misguided." She offers him a faint, politician's smile. He frowns, recognizing it as a reflection of one of Dermail's. "I will be fine; it's my aunt and my cousin I worry over." She departs before he can respond, bare feet whispering across the grass silently.

--

"I am sorry to hear of your father."

"Ah, Zechs…" Treize doesn't turn from where he's leaning against the balcony balustrade. He reaches out a hand, plucking a rose from the tangles of thorns creeping up the trellis from three stories down. Zechs approaches him cautiously, watching as the older boy twirls the rose lightly between his fingers. "Mother's favorite flowers. Father used to bring her dozens of them when they were courting, called her His Fair Rose. He's the one who planted these, so she could see them whenever she wished."

He knew this of course, everyone knew this. Landry Khushrenada had been a devoted husband. Many people still spoke of the wedding between Landry and Aria, and the vast amounts of roses that were _everywhere_, the utter devotion he showed when he gazed at his wife. Zechs looked away, wondering if this had been a bad idea. But Dorothy had prodded him incessantly since Treize had emerged from his mother's rooms an hour ago.

She had appeared in his room unexpectedly. One minute he was alone reading, the next she was standing in front of him fidgeting. "Treize is on the balcony," she reported. "You should go and see him. He'll appreciate your gesture more." She hadn't left him alone until he had finally agreed. Dorothy could be quite convincing when she was being manipulative.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Treize chuckles drily and rubs his thumb lightly over the thorn. Zechs leans against the rail next to him, watching the play of emotions dance across his friend's face. "It should be mine you realize. I should head the Alliance and my father's estate now, not General Alexander Catalonia. It was Grandfather who stepped in of course, who denied me and handed it over to that fool of a man. I told you he favored Dorothy."

"Treize, how does this pertain to Dorothy?" The familiar rivalry between the cousins was something he would never understand, no matter how hard he tried. They saw each other as allies; they saw each other as rivals. He isn't sure which one it is now.

"Duke Dermail plans to take power for himself and use Dorothy to do it. Or perhaps the child, if it's a boy." He nods faintly, determinedly. "Yes, if it's a boy he will use him; sculpt him into the image of himself so that he can take Romefeller to the next level, the impending war to a new plane. Dorothy is useful, but she is a girl and Dermail will never allow his own granddaughter into the Alliance for fear of the repercussions…"

Zechs nodded slowly. "And he doesn't trust you." He sees a glint in Treize's eyes and smiles. "And rightly so. Does Dorothy know?"

"I'm sure she does but no, I haven't spoken to her of it yet." His eyes cloud and he lets the rose fall, spinning to the ground below. "I worry over her Zechs. I worry that Dermail has already gotten his talons into her and that she _is_ but just a pawn, no longer the little girl we used to know." His laugh is self-deprecating this time. "Then again, that might just be the military training speaking."

"She has her own mind."

"She's his tool to complete dominance, complete power." He snorts and faces the full moon. "I do not blame Dorothy; I don't think she even realizes…I blame our whole vile family. You're smart to escape us while you can Zechs." The blonde boy shook his head slowly and Treize shrugged idly. "I will get it back; I will fight Duke Dermail for Romefeller. Even if I have to use the Specials to do so."

"I know."

"It's what my father wanted, what my mother expected." He bowed his head and then stood up straighter. "Thank you Zechs." The other boy glances at him out of the corner of his eye, curious but silent. "You have been a true friend, I value that greatly."

"You make it sound like a farewell speech."

"Perhaps in a way it is." He turns to look at the younger boy and nods to himself. "Things will never be the same again Milliardo," he murmured softly. The other boy stiffened at his given name and Treize gave another imperceptible nod. "With war comes casualties, I fear there will be many in this one."

Zechs remained silent because there honestly wasn't anything he could say to that.

--

"It'll be lonely without you two around," Dorothy stated blandly. They stood by the pond and she untwisted her hair, letting it dance in the strong wind. Treize remained stoic but Zechs looked at her. "Mother's already informed me of my lesson schedule. French, Italian, Literature, History of Civilization, Ballroom Dancing, and Statistics. I'm sure I've forgotten something…oh, right, Etiquette as well."

"Sounds like a full load," Zechs commented. She nodded and looked to Treize expectantly. He turned to her finally and nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry to leave you Thea," there was no contempt in the nickname, no emotion almost. He offered her a charming smile and she hugged him. "Your mother would have a fit to see you hugging me."

"She'll get over it. Write me, promise? Tell me everything that happens there, please."

"Of course Dorothy." He grips her shoulders tightly. "Take care Dorothy, look after yourself." James appeared with a cough and Treize straightened slowly. "Come along Zechs, time for us to leave."

"Right." He turned but stopped, feeling the hand on his wrist. He turned back while Treize kept walking, not noticing the other boy had stopped. "Dorothy?"

"Thank you," she mumbled. She hugged him as well and he patted her back awkwardly. "Make sure he's okay, please?"

"Yes, of course. Goodbye Dorothy."

"Goodbye Zechs."

She watched them disappear through the gardens before she turned back to the pond and hurled stones angrily into the water. They plopped nosily and she didn't hear the footsteps approaching until Duke Dermail stood at her shoulder, surprising her. "Grandfather!"

"Ah, Dorothy, here you are." There was a twinkle in his dark eyes and she smiled up at him easily. "Your mother sent me to fetch you for your lessons. Seems you're running late."

"Of course," she grumbled. "Grandfather, do you think I can go to Lake Victoria one day?"

He eyed her critically and she made sure to stand as straight as she could. "Ah, Dorothy, a soldier's life is no place for a flower such as you. Come along and let's get to work on that History of Ancient Civilizations, shall we?" He guided her effortlessly back to the house.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Death, angst, blood.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs, Noin.  
**Note:** Chapter three. Sorry about the delay but I had family issues yesterday.  
**Chapter:** Three: Ashes to Ashes  
**Chapter Summary:** In which Dorothy receives a present, Treize sends bad news, and Zechs is intriguing.

Treize didn't bother knocking; then again he had never knocked on her door. He frowned as he surveyed her room, noting the dolls on the shelves, the stuffed animals covering the pale purple bedspread. The bookcase in the back was overflowing with everything from childhood favorites like Peter Pan and Grimm's Fairytales to classics by authors such as Dickens and Brontë.

He remembers her favorite bedtime story was Little Red Riding Hood. She used to grin when the huntsman killed the wolf. He closes the door on her bedroom and turns back to the stairs. If she isn't here then she's most likely at the stables.

The sun is just beginning to set when he finds her. She's sitting in the tall grass weaving together a chain of daisies. He smiles at the sight of it as he leans against the paddock fence. "I thought you preferred to rip the petals off!" he calls. Her head snaps up, blonde hair shining. He can see her eyes widen in surprise as he climbs over the fence.

"Treize!" she shrieks. She stands and races toward him, the daisy chain falling where she dropped it. He catches her and hugs her tightly though they'll both deny it later. "Why are you here?" she demands once the moment's passed. She steps back and eyes him, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're _supposed_ to be in training."

"Ah, and miss your birthday? Not likely." He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a small package. It's wrapped in iridescent blue paper and has a silver bow stuck to it. "Happy Birthday, Thea."

She takes the gift and eyes it warily, as if she's afraid it'll suddenly explode. "Did you wrap this?" He snorts and she grins. "It better not be more rose stuff Treize, Aunt Aria's gotten me enough to last a _lifetime_." She tugs the bow off and sticks it on his chest before tugging the paper off. She doesn't notice when he sticks the bow on her head. "Oh!"

She's staring wide-eyed at the open box in her hands. He smiles and leans against the fence again, watching her. She bites her lip and carefully pulls out the gold necklace inside. The pendant is in the shape of a circle and there's little, intricate drawings on the face of it.

"It's a locket," he explains. She nods silently and shoves the box in his hands. He smiles as she clasps the chain around her neck and stares at the circle in her hand. "I know you're not one for dressing up but it was charming."

"It's very pretty," she agrees absently. He doesn't expect the second hug she bestows upon him. He hugs her back though. "Thank you Treize, it's wonderful."

"Happy Birthday," he repeats. She nods and steps back. Her shoulders stiffen a bit and he frowns. "What is it Dorothy?"

"Oh, nothing." Her voice sounds small though, smaller than he's ever heard it. "It just gets awful lonesome without you and Zechs around." She reaches for his hand and tugs lightly. "Let's go shooting Treize, please? How long are you staying anyway?" He chuckles quietly as she drags him along.

--

"People say you know Treize Khushrenada." He looked up from his Physics textbook to study the girl speaking to him. Her dark hair was cut short, the bangs hanging in her eyes. She tilted her head and raised a hand to ward against the fading summer sun. "Is that true?"

"Does it matter?"

She smiled at him. "Guess not, but it is interesting." She sat down gracefully (he had a feeling it was a girl thing) and glanced at the textbook. "I hate that class," she noted. He raised an eyebrow behind his dark glasses and she laughed a bit. "My name's Lucrezia Noin, but I'll punch anyone who calls me Lucrezia."

"Nice to meet you Noin," he replied with the hint of a smile. "I'm Zechs Merquise."

She rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I know who you are of course. I just transferred in last week and _everyone's_ been talking about you Mister Merquise."

"Call me Zechs, please."

"Very well. They said you were a stuck-up snob, friends with the Khushrenadas and Catalonias. Well, _I_ don't know how you can be a stuck up snob if no one's heard of you before and you seem nice to me. You're some sort of genius right?"

"Supposedly," he admitted with a roll of his eyes. He isn't sure she can see the action behind his dark glasses. She nods though and leans against the wall next to him, violet eyes closing. He stares at her for a moment. She's the first person to actually approach him since his arrival a month and a half ago. "Aren't you worried about your reputation, sitting next to me?" He got a laugh out of her and he couldn't hide the small smile.

"What reputation? Why, does it bother you?" He shook his head, flipping a page idly and she nods, settling herself in. "Good, cause I find you intriguing and I like intriguing things."

--

_Zechs,_

_Sorry for the terribly informal note but I think based on the circumstances it will do. Mother contacted me earlier today, Lilla died in childbirth due to complications of some such. The child _was_ a boy. Uncle Alexander named him Timothy Alexander Landry, so I was right. I hear Grandfather is ecstatic. The funeral is this coming weekend. I'm sure Dorothy would want you there. You have no obligation to attend though. Let me know if you wish to come, I will insure a car is sent for you._

_Best Regards,_

_Treize_

_PS I hope you are enjoying Lake Victoria._

Zechs stared incredulously at the letter Treize sent two months after the start of term. Lilla, dead? He admits that he never particularly _cared_ for her, but still…dead? He can't believe it. With a sigh he sends a response to Treize, informing him of his decision to attend the funeral. His thoughts are drifting, between warm summer afternoons listening to Lilla play piano, to Dorothy and fencing, to Treize and their chess matches, until the knock on his door startles him.

Noin enters without waiting for a response and closes the door behind her. She's holding two bottles of soda and a bag of crisps in one hand, her Biology textbook tucked under her other arm. Her hair is wet and plastered to her face. "Ugh, it's raining buckets outside." She dumps the provisions on his bed and then paused and looked at him. "Are you okay, you look like someone died?" His face must have betrayed some hint of emotion because she clapped a hand over her mouth and frowned. "I'm sorry! Did someone? Who?"

"Lilla Catalonia," he replied quietly.

"Oh, Zechs, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I shouldn't have said anything." She sat down on his bed and unscrewed the top of a bottle. "I didn't mean anything…"

"I know," he mumbled. "It's okay, we weren't close. It was just a shock." She nodded as he turned around in the desk chair, looking at her. "Right, so what did you bring?"

"Maybe we should forget studying today?"

"I'm fine, Noin."

"But, maybe, mourning time and all. One day of missing out on studying won't damage our marks. It'll be fine…"

"_Lucrezia_ I'm fine." The use of her first name seems to have caught her attention. Her eyes narrow and he smirks. "I'm fine…"

"I told you to _never_ call me by my first name!"

"You weren't listening to me," he replies easily. She glares and punches him square in the face. His glasses are pushed up against the bridge of his nose before they slide down again. He stares at her in shock after the initial pain ebbs and she sniffs. "You punched me."

"I warned you before. I hate my first name." He nods, too shocked to speak and his fingers reach up to feel the tingling area. It's already beginning to swell and he wonders what people will think if they see him with a swollen face tomorrow. "Shall we get to work on fungus then?" He nods again and she opens the book to the chapter and offers him the bag of crisps. "Right, so fungus, or fungi…"

--

"Ah, Zechs," Aria murmured when she saw him. Her red-blonde hair was tied up with a black clip, longer than he had seen it in years. Her blue eyes looked tired and her face pale above her black mourning gown. "I'm so glad you could make it to the funeral." She leaned in, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks.

"Of course I would come," he replied immediately.

"Have you seen Tim yet?" she questioned.

"Not yet."

She nodded faintly and then turned to look at the murmuring guests, the black draped walls. The house was familiar yet not for he'd only been to Dorothy's estate a handful of times. "I moved in with my sister and her family once Landry died, closing our own estate until I can bear to go back to it. Or until Treize inherits," she adds with a faint shake of her head. "I don't know where I will go now."

He shifted next to her and glanced around the room, searching for a sweep of blonde hair, a head of red-brown.

"Treize and Dorothy will probably be out at the stables. Poor dear, she's taken it all very well for someone her age." She brushed dry lips against his forehead as he stood stiffly. "Thank you," she murmured again. And then with a rustle of black fabric she was gone, moving effortlessly through the crowd. He turned from the gathering and exited the heavy doors, heading for the stables near the back of the grounds.

He smells the stable before he finds it, sees the two dark-clad figures before they see him. Treize is leaning against one of the paddock fences, fingers resting on the white painted wood. She's sitting on top of the fence, blonde hair down and curled, black skirt being tugged at by the wind. In front of them are two horses grazing, both a deep chestnut.

When he gets closer he notices the black roses weaved into her hair, the white lilies scattered beneath her feet.

"Treize, Dorothy…" The older boy turns his head and nods at him. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Death is but the ultimate goal of life, isn't that so Zechs?" she asks softly. She doesn't turn to him, instead keeps her eyes on the mare across from her. He clasps hands with Treize briefly before standing on her other side. A small, nearly malicious, mostly despondent smile tugs at her mouth. "That is what Grandfather told me the night she died."

"He was right, in a way," Zechs responded slowly when Treize remained silent. "But there's more to life than death, don't you think, Dorothy? Otherwise what would be the point?"

Her eyes turn to his finally and they're hard. There are no tear tracks streaking her face this time, like at the last death. Treize turns, observing them through inscrutable eyes and Zechs feels off, like he shouldn't be here. As if he should still be in his dorm room at Lake Victoria, studying and arguing with Noin.

"I think about a great many things now Zechs," she replies breezily. "There's not much else to do between Etiquette lessons and French verbs. Treize I'm sure has already told you I've become rather impossible to handle recently. I fear I have reason to be."

"You were always impossible Dorothy," Treize comments idly. He catches one of the black flowers as it falls from her hair and hands it back to her. She twirls it in her slender fingers and both boys watch as a small thorn pricks her finger, drawing blood. She stares at it. "You _can_ cry Dorothy."

"I mustn't or Grandfather will think me weak." She smears the blood over her fingers, squeezes the skin to let more flow down pale flesh. "He wishes Timothy and me to live with him now that mother is gone and Father's constantly away. He wants to teach _me_."

Zechs reaches over and calmly grasps her hand, stopping the play of crimson while Treize watches, expressionless. None of them comment as he wipes the blood away with his sleeve.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Death, angst, blood.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs, Noin.  
**Note:** Chapter four. A little bit early since I was a little bit late before. I just wanted to thank those of you who reviewed, they make me smile.  
**Chapter:** Four: Wish Upon a Star  
**Chapter Summary:** In which there is much alcohol, Dorothy is a baby-sitter, Zechs is annoyed, Treize is manipulative, and Noin is not pleased.

* * *

It's hot, too hot almost.

The African heat is oppressive and most of the Cadets have shed off their jackets and boots when not in class. Noin is stretched out in a thin patch of shade cast by the Training Building and her bare feet wiggle. Zechs watches her idly, feeling the sun beat onto the back of his head, burning his elbows and nose. She stirs and turns on her side to stare at him through squinted eyes.

"I honestly don't know how you keep your hair so long," she says derisively. He doesn't think it's too long, just past his shoulders now. He wonders what she would have thought if she'd seen it when it was a good three or four inches longer, closer to Dorothy's length. He shrugs and she sighs, returning to her previous position. "I can't believe its end of term already."

"Why?" he asks carefully. It's the last days before the shuttles leave, taking them back to their homes – their families and lives. He wishes he opted to stay and train at the academy during the long break. She sits up and fans herself with the paper listing her exam scores. He's already berated her on them; she's already threatened him with a black eye if he didn't stop it.

"It just seems to have gone by fast," she replies softly. "And to be honest, I can't imagine seeing my family again after all this time." He looks up at that since she rarely speaks of her family, and usually just off hand remarks, never any depth. She focuses on a bird flying by and he mentally charts the speed, wind, and trajectory needed to shoot it. He finds that unsettling.

"I suppose so."

"Will you be going home or with Mister Treize?" she questioned. She turned to look at him, violet eyes smiling. A moment passes in which he realizes he's supposed to answer and she shrugs when she doesn't receive one. "I'd like to write you, or visit but I won't impose. We _will_ still be friends once the new term starts, right?"

"Of course Noin." She smiles, satisfied, and leans back against the hot wall.

"Good."

--

In celebration of his eleventh birthday Treize had arranged for two bottles of wine.

The house was new, Aria having moved into it just a month previous. It was on the Mediterranean, with a private dock leading to a yacht. They were lying on their backs on the roof of the house, listening to the waves lap far below and the servants move about the house, readying for bed. The stars were bright above their heads and the air warm and balmy.

"My uncle tells me you've done excellent," Treize comments when a large portion of the first bottle is gone. He sits up and stares out at the endless expanse of ocean. "I'm pleased to hear that Zechs, we'll need soldiers like you in the coming years."

"You know my reasons Treize," Zechs mumbles back. His head feels fuzzy, probably since he's the one who's drunk most of the wine. Treize looks at him and nods. "They _will_ pay."

"Of course they will." He hesitates and Zechs tilts his head, looking at him. There's something else, something he isn't saying… "Dorothy will be joining us in a month once Dermail lets her come after the Annual Summer Ball he's hosting. I fear she's changed, at least that's what Mother's letters make it sound like."

"Ball?"

"Ah, yes. All of the Alliance members are welcomed of course; we're expected to be there. Well, that is to say, _I_ am expected to attend. My uncle would like you there as well, since you are a guest and one of the best students at the Academy." Zechs smirks and Treize shakes his head. "I'm sorry, since you are _the_ best student at the Academy."

"I don't think I'd be able to restrain myself."

Treize nodded and sipped from the bottle. A night fisherman's boat was leaving the town, the lights bobbing brightly in the darkness. "Relena will be there."

"What?" He sat up, the traces of alcohol leaving his bloodstream almost immediately. Treize nodded slowly. "Why?"

"The Vice Foreign Minister is bringing her. So is that girl from the Academy, Lucrezia is it?"

"Noin."

"Mm, right. I'm thinking of recruiting her into the Specials, what do you think?"

Zechs frowned, clenching and unclenching his fists. "She's a good soldier," he says finally. Treize nods. "Will Relena be safe?"

"I'm sure with you there no one will be able to harm her. And I can have Dorothy shadow her and befriend her if you wish it." Zechs nodded and Treize turned his gaze to the sky again. "What good fortune Zechs, a shooting star on your birthday."

--

"She's _younger_ than me!" Dorothy whined. Treize narrowed his eyes at her. She shifted irritably, fingers playing with the gold locket around her neck. "I don't want to babysit."

"She's seven and you're eight," Treize responded, "that is not a big difference." Dorothy shook her head fiercely in response. "Besides, you might enjoy her company."

"I won't," she insisted. He sighed quietly and patted her shoulder lightly. "Why do I have to do it? What's in it for me?"

"_Dorothy_…" His tone was warning and she sniffed angrily.

"Zechs can do it if he wants to protect her so much!" She crossed her arms and glared at him. He shook his head and wondered why he had promised Zechs that Dorothy would agree to this.

"You know he can't. Look, she's arrived; do you want me to introduce you two?"

"No." She glared at him one last time before hurrying away, popping up in front of the entering family with a bright smile. "Hello, I'm Dorothy Catalonia." Relena's eyes brightened immediately and she smiled back. "So happy you could come." She dropped into a practiced curtsey, her head bowed so the curls fell over her shoulder.

"A pleasure to meet you, Dorothy," Vice Foreign Minister Darlian greeted. "This is my wife, and my daughter, Relena." He eyed her speculatively. "You're Duke Dermail's granddaughter, correct?"

"Of course," she answered. She gave another pleasant smile before looking back to the other girl. Relena was staring at her avidly, squirming under her father's hand. She saw Treize behind them and sighed inwardly. "Can Relena stay with me?"

"Yes!" Relena agreed immediately. She turned to her parents who were watching in bemusement. "Please, can I Mommy, Daddy?"

"Alright Relena, you two have fun," her mother replied. She brushed back some of the honey colored hair. "Be good." Relena was already dragging Dorothy away though, humming happily and looking too-comfortable in her poufy dress. Dorothy sighed, this time aloud, and glanced at the large clock on the other side of the room. It was going to be a _long_ night.

--

She was beautiful.

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her once she and her family had entered the ballroom. Long honey colored hair, just like their mother's. Blue eyes, a sparkling laugh. She looked like a princess in a pale pink ball gown. Treize had been true to his word, having Dorothy approach her almost immediately and befriend her. No one, even if they suspected her true identity, would approach her when she was around the older girl.

"She's a bit _young_ for you, don't you think?" He dragged his eyes away from Relena and instead to Noin. She looked uncomfortable, tugging at the elastic in her sleeves. "Then again, you _could_ be looking at the other one, but she's still a few years younger than us."

"What are you talking about?" He feels confused, like maybe she said something important and he missed it, distracted by watching Relena calling the Vice Foreign Minister _Daddy_ and his wife _Mommy_.

"You've been watching Darlian's daughter all night," Noin pointed out. She brushed her hair out of her face. "Or maybe it was the Catalonia girl, I can't be sure since they're always together. I figure you either want to recruit her or date her. She's too young."

He almost choked on the water he was drinking. "I do _not_ want to date Relena Darlian."

She eyes him for a moment, then nods. "Good." He wonders why she doesn't pursue the possible recruitment but lets it drop. Her arms cross over her chest and her fingers fiddle with the diamond necklace she claims her mother forced on her. "I doubt you'd get along anyway." He bristles at that but she either doesn't notice or ignores it.

He opens his mouth to demand clarification but Dorothy is suddenly there, with a polite smile and a toss of pale curled hair. Relena stands behind her, eyes slightly wide as she stares at the two older children, and behind her is Treize, charismatic, charming Treize. His closest friend, his most trusted ally – he wants to punch him.

"_Hello_ Mister Merquise," Dorothy says pleasantly.

"Miss Catalonia, how nice to see you again." He ignores Relena's presence; he doesn't bother looking at her. "This is Lucrezia Noin." The other girl nods while Dorothy's smile flickers.

"Pleased. Of course you know of Treize? And this is Relena Darlian, the Vice Foreign Minister's daughter," Dorothy replies. "Lovely party, isn't it?" He finally manages to look at her properly and he's shocked by the change. Her face is a little thinner, her dress more expensive, but it's the change in her eyes that throws him. It almost seems like they're made of ice, or stone.

"Dorothy?" he starts to question but Relena interrupts him. She takes a step closer and tilts her head so that too long bangs fall into her eyes.

"Are you blind? Is that why you wear the sunglasses indoors at night?" she questions. Dorothy hushes her quickly.

"Sorry, she's still young." Neither Zechs nor Treize point out that she's only a year older than Relena. They both know she's aware. "Would you like to dance Zechs?"

He offers a smile. "Of course." His chest tightens as he brushes past Relena, but its better this way. He has no reason to interact with her anymore; he gave that up years ago. "This way." He takes her hand and they slip away, his head turned away from Noin's pointed look.

--

"Why did you introduce us?" he demanded once they were on the dance floor. She smiled at him, hand tightening on his shoulder. "Dorothy, why did you introduce us?"

"I thought it might be amusing." The smile flickers and her eyes light briefly. "I wasn't _terribly_ disappointed, but it was less dramatic than I had anticipated." He twirls her and sees Dermail's smile from across the room, his eyes fastened on the two of them. "Your friend doesn't seem to like us dancing. Or maybe she just doesn't like my cousin, that's entirely possible."

"What?" He follows her line of sight, sees Treize and Noin off to the side, near the French doors, talking. Strands of dark hair have fallen into her eyes, obscuring his view of the violet color. He knows they're watching him though. They make another turn and he notices Relena's dancing with the Vice Foreign Minister, her _father_, now.

"Miss Noin of course," Dorothy replies sweetly. He looks at her again and she raises an eyebrow. "I think…"

"Be quiet Dorothy," he nearly growls. He twirls her quickly and walks off the dance floor, out onto the lit patio. She follows him mutely. "I don't know why you're acting like this, I don't know if you know. It has to stop Dorothy, this game of deceit you're playing."

"I can't say I know what you mean." She leans against the rail, black dress crinkling slightly. "I was being completely honest when I said Miss Noin wasn't happy." She leans in with a smile. "I think she has a little crush on you, Milliardo." He tensed, turning to glare at her but she simply smiled back. "Mother used to tell me all about crushes. I wonder if Aunt Aria will now." Her eyes are shining brightly but he doesn't think it's from happiness.

"Enough, Dorothy," he growled.

"Mother used to tell me a lot," she added quietly. "She loved to talk." She trailed off, looking lost for a moment before her shoulders straightened. "Anyway, I promised my grandfather a dance; I'll see you later Zechs. Miss Noin." He turned around quickly, seeing her standing there, breeze tugging lightly at the dark purple gown.

"Noin," he says once Dorothy has glided away.

"Zechs." She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head to stare at him while she crosses her arms. It's such a _Noin_ look he can't help but smile. "I guess you _were_ looking at the Catalonia girl, Dorothy right?"

"Dorothy is a…" She raises her eyebrows higher as he lets the sentence trail off. He isn't really sure what he'd meant to say anyway. "Dorothy is her own person."

"I imagine she must be, with a family like _that_." He glanced at her curiously and she shrugged. "Treize and I had a lovely talk once Relena was carted off and you were _dancing_ the night away with his cousin. Speaking of which, you dance?"

"I thought that was obvious."

"You never mentioned it before," she prompts. He shrugged and she smirked. "Too girly for your reputation?"

"Unneeded information."

"Of course." She pulled herself up so that she was sitting on the railing. "Relena _did_ pose an interesting question. Why _do_ you wear those sunglasses all the time? I didn't really think about it since you know, we live in _Africa_ for schooling, but here, at night? I can see her point."

He turned purposefully and stared off toward the horizon where he knows there are mountains. It's just a matter of finding them. In the dark. She huffs a sigh and kicks her shoes off, rubbing her feet idly. An elderly couple wanders past, smiling at the two of them politely.

"You aren't going to answer me, are you? That's fine." Her fingers are playing with the necklace again. "Treize spoke to me about the Specials," she murmurs after a moment. "He says I'm a good candidate."

"You are."

She ignores his tone. "I think I'll accept, you have already, right?" He nods and she smiles. "I wish we were back at Lake Victoria already. I wish it was start of term again," she sighs. "I hate politics, remind me to never join them Zechs, no matter how persuasive they are."

"Of course, if you do the same for me Noin." She smiles at him and he smiles back. "Since you expressed such an interest earlier, would you like to dance?"

She looked up, startled, and then smiled, taking the offered hand.

--

"Smile, Thea."

"I'm beginning to suspect you have a perverse pleasure when it comes to pestering me," she drawled out. She took a flute of champagne from a passing server. He glanced at her but didn't say anything, continuing with his rounds. "I don't want to smile Treize."

"Obviously." He took the champagne from her, sipping it. "You're too young for alcohol Dorothy."

"Grandfather lets me have it." He snorts and she glares. "Don't be resentful."

"Don't be pompous, it doesn't suit you." His eyes follow the two cadets as they waltz around the dance floor. "Walk with me?" She matches him step for step, smiling pleasantly at each aristocrat they pass. Relena starts to approach but stops suddenly when Treize gives a shake of his head. They exit the ballroom, heading down the long corridors and toward the kitchen.

"Late night snack?"

"Only if you want; I was thinking to escape the aristocrats and our dear, compassionate grandfather."

"I knew you were jealous of him favoring me!" she exclaims as they enter the kitchen. If the staff was surprised to see them they didn't show it. "Admit it."

"I don't care who or what he favors Thea. Ah, Mrs. Harrison, do you think you could get a mug of hot chocolate for my cousin?" The old cook grinned at the two of them and ushered them onto stools while she began to make the drink. "I spoke to your father earlier in the evening Dorothy."

"Oh, and what about or is that privileged?" she snapped irritably.

"Mind your manners Miss," Mrs. Harrison reprimanded as she set the mug on the counter top. "Drink up Dear, you look pale."

"Thanks." She sipped the hot liquid carefully before looking at the older boy. "So, are you going to tell me Treize or do I have to guess?"

"I asked him if you would go to Lake Victoria." Her head lifts, mouth opening to pose the question, but she hesitates. He shakes his head slowly. "He said he'd be happy for you to go to the school, but Grandfather stepped in. He said he couldn't bear the thought of you fighting and the possibility of your death. Your father agreed. I am sorry Dorothy."

Her head bows, and her pale face is hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair. "Right, well, I knew that of course. And anyway, politics are much more fascinating, really. Fencing and parties and functions, so much to do…"

"_Thea_…"

"Don't. Please Treize, don't." She sat up straight and stared at the mug of hot chocolate. "Please, leave. I'll be back at the party in a little while." He stood and departed silently, ignoring her when she wiped at her tears.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Plotting, underaged drinking.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs.  
**Note:** Chapter five. I kind of think this is my favorite so far.  
**Chapter:** Five: Summer  
**Chapter Summary:** In which Zechs plays chess, Treize is reprimanded, and Dorothy relaxes.

* * *

Her fingers still on the keys when the door opens. The footsteps are soft, graceful, without turning her head she knows it is Aria. Her aunt approaches and sits quietly on the bench next to her. Her strawberry blonde hair is beginning to show hints of silvery grey in it. Idly Dorothy wonders if Lilla's would also now.

"How have you been Dorothy?" Aria asks finally.

"Very well and how have you been?" she replies immediately. Aria turns her head, stares at her from blue eyes just a shade darker than her mother's. She turns to regard the sheet music spread out before her.

"I have been well. I'm happy to have you in my home Thea." Her fingers tremble softly on the keys until she orders them mentally to stop. "How is Tim?"

"Good I guess." She shrugs her shoulders absently. "He has a nurse and Grandfather says I'm too busy to see him anyway. I can hear him cry sometimes."

"Ah." She looks up to see Aria frowning slightly. When her aunt notices her look she smiles and brushes back a strand of Dorothy's pale hair. "Why aren't you out in the sun playing with Zechs and Treize? Have they shut you out?"

She wonders if it would be easier to say that they did, but she knows the lie will be bitter on her tongue. No matter her cousin's faults, he has never turned her away from tagging along. "No," she answers easily. A smile is forced pleasantly onto her mouth. "Grandfather says I'll turn red and freckled if I stay out too long."

"Psh," Aria laughs. "You are my guest this summer Dorothy. My father has no claim over you at the moment. Go on out, I'm sure you'll have more fun in the ocean than in here." And then she hugs her niece and Dorothy sits, frozen, shocked. "I have missed seeing you Dorothy."

She waits until Aria has left before turning to stare out the large windows overlooking the Mediterranean. The water is sparkling and deep and she lets out a wistful sigh. "Still locked up in here?"

She jumps, and turns to face the doorway. Zechs is leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and sunglasses pushed up on top of his head for once. She smiles faintly at him. "It's been a while since I've seen your actual _face_," she responds. She smirks as he reaches up and feels for the glasses on his head. "They're still there, don't worry. Shouldn't you be with Treize?"

"Shouldn't you be shooting something?" he counters, entering the room.

"That _does_ sound enticing." He chuckles and she grins, turning on the wooden bench to face him fully. "Does Treize know where you are?"

"Yes," he replies. "He understands that there's only so much one can do on a yacht."

"Of course," Dorothy agrees with a smile. "The mail came; you got a letter from Miss Noin." He nods and she raises an eyebrow. "I get the feeling that you're plotting something, and that something involves me. Please don't."

He lunges and she shrieks as he picks her up bodily. At that moment Treize appears in the doorway, watching them. "Oh, good, you found her Zechs. I was afraid that the house had swallowed her up."

"Nearly, I think she glued herself to the piano bench for all the force I had to use to lift her."

Treize smirks. "Or Grandfather's been feeding her too often."

"Zechs Merquise, put me down this instant!" she yells. She tugs at his hair and he glares, tipping her further over his shoulder. "Are you going to help me?" she demands, glaring at Treize.

"I would, but it's so much fun watching you like this."

"You're cruel!"

"Come now Thea, have a little fun. It _is_ the summer after all." He backs out as Zechs approaches. "What do you suppose we do with her?"

She pales as she watches the smiles appear on both boys' faces. "Put me _down_!"

--

She shivers beneath Zech's jacket as Treize pokes at the fire. Earlier, Treize had led the way out to the dock where Zechs had tossed her into the Mediterranean. She had surfaced spluttering and cursing to the amusement of both boys _and_ the nearby maintenance workers. She had gotten her revenge though. She smiles now as she remembers splashing the both of them. It had been particularly joyful to watch Treize's clothes become soaked through.

Now it is night though and Zechs had been the one to suggest the fire. They had stolen food from the kitchen and Treize had once again procured wine (neither of them questioned from where). Zechs glances at her and she glares at him. His sunglasses are broken from when she snapped them in anger. He deserved it though, even if it had been fun.

"You okay?"

"Freezing."

"It was your idea to jump in the Sea after supper."

"Well, I'd already been in once," she mutters. Treize laughs and she throws a rock at him. It misses but then again, she hadn't _really_ been aiming for him.

"Your nose is sunburned," Zechs informs her. He smiles and she rolls her eyes. She knows it's sunburned. Just as she knows her arms are freckled and her cheeks are red.

"And your face is sunburned too," she retorts. He glares and Treize smirks. They both consider it highly unfair that her cousin escaped without even the hint of sunburn. Instead he is pleasantly tan. Dorothy groans and pulls the jacket tighter as the night gets colder. "Who has the wine?"

"Zechs," Treize replies. "He usually hogs it." Zechs glares and Treize ignores him.

"Mm, figures," Dorothy murmurs. She steals the wine while the boys fight silently. She lets the bottle settle into the sand and rocks of the beach and flops backward onto the grass she's lounging on. The stars are endless above her and she sighs happily. "I've missed this," she admits drowsily. The fire is warm against her bare feet and the jacket smells pleasantly of cinnamon and salt. Absently she registers Treize taking the wine back.

"Have you?" Treize asks. He glances at his cousin, his eyes unreadable.

"Yes. I have missed spending the summers with you," she murmurs sleepily. "It's…calming and pleasant…and right." She smiles at Zechs and he smiles back. "I wish it would always stay like this."

"Everything changes Thea," Treize murmurs. "Life is about change."

"Oh, shut-_up_ Treize and stop hogging the wine," Dorothy snaps. Zechs laughs as she scowls.

"It's too rich for you." He settles back against a twisted tree and looks out to sea. Dorothy narrows her eyes and leans across Zechs, trying to swipe it from her older cousin. "No, Dorothy." He narrows his eyes at her in return.

"Oh, let her have some," Zechs laughs. He leans over Dorothy's reaching form and easily grasps the bottle. "Here," he said.

"Thank you. It's good to see that _some_ sort of chivalry exists. I was beginning to fear that the entire race of gentlemen was extinct." She smirks around the wine bottle and sighs contentedly. She ignores the look Treize sends her and focuses on the stars above. "Space looks pretty from here. It's a shame Grandfather is going to destroy it." She laughs, ignoring the looks the boys are sending her.

--

"You're too kind to her," Treize murmurs. Zechs frowns, following the older boy down the hallway. Dorothy is curled up in Treize's arms, passed out from too much wine and sun. Probably fresh air too, now that he thinks about it. Zechs moves ahead, opening the door to the room she is sleeping in.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He pulls back the covers while Treize sets her down. She sighs a little and turns over. Zechs reaches down, pushing back her hair. "What?" he demands when Treize eyes him.

"Nothing." Zechs frowns as Treize drapes the covers over her. "Come on, before she wakes up." They leave her room and Zechs follows Treize once again. They are heading to the small library on the second floor apparently. He opens his mouth once or twice but Treize ignores him, frowning into the half-darkness.

"What's wrong?" he asks finally. Treize pokes at the fire, watching it spark to life, and then sits down on the floor in front of it. Zechs hesitates before sitting down next to him. The fire feels nice, warming skin chilled by wind and sea spray.

"Nothing," Treize repeats. He shakes his head and pokes the fire with the iron. "Have you noticed the change, Zechs?"

"In Dorothy?" Treize nods and Zechs shrugs in response. "Her mother just died eight months ago," Zechs protests. "Of course she'd change. I did."

Treize glances at him but doesn't say anything. He doesn't point out that it was both his parents, that they had been murdered. He doesn't mention the staff that was killed, the kingdom that was ransacked, or the childhood friends that were slain. He doesn't bring up the loss of his sister.

"She'll be fine," Zechs finally adds.

--

The rain is falling steadily now, no longer the light drizzle from earlier. Treize lounges idly on the window seat, his head against the cold glass. His eyes watch as the black car passes in and out of sight as it moves along the driveway toward the house. He frowns as it pulls to a stop in front of the house and one of the servants dashes out with a black umbrella held high over the older man's head.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches his grandfather enter the car.

"Hm…Knight to E5," Dorothy murmurs quietly behind him. She and Zechs have been playing chess for the past hour and a half. He waits until the car pulls away before he stands suddenly, crosses the room and opens the door.

Zechs looks up, frowning. "Where are you going?"

Treize offers a smile. "Just for a walk."

"Oh, good, could you bring me back a soda from the kitchen?" Dorothy asks. She looks up, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.

"You'll get an overbite," Treize responds. She glares and he smiles slightly. "All right."

He walks leisurely through the halls, his hands shoved into his pockets. No one pays him any attention and he is grateful. The rain slaps the glass of the windows the servants are cleaning and he sighs. Rain always makes him feel melancholy. At last he comes to his destination. He hesitates a moment before knocking loudly on the door.

"Come in," a tired voice answers. He enters the room and smiles when his mother looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Her reflection smiles back. "Ah, Treize, Dear, how are you?" She continues to brush her fair hair, watching him curiously.

The sitting room is full with the scent of roses. Looking around he can see fresh cut yellow, red, and pink roses in vases on every surface. He moves out of the mirror's line of sight, looking at the various paintings on the wall. Aria sets the silver-plated brush on the vanity and picks up the bottle of rose perfume, spritzing a light mist around her.

"Treize?" she repeats. She turns to look at him.

"What did _he_ want?" he asks finally. It bothers him that he isn't able to keep his voice neutral.

Aria sighs softly, standing slowly. She approaches, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't speak like that Treize. He is your grandfather after all… He has our best interests at heart." He snorts and she glares. "Treize Oberon Gabriel James Khushrenada, you do _not_ disrespect _anyone_ like that, let alone your grandfather. Is that understood?"

"Of course, Mother." He turns to her and smiles. "However, I find it increasingly difficult to think that Grandfather has _our_ interests at heart." He takes her hand and looks at her earnestly. "Especially after Father's death."

"_Treize_, please, not this again." She laughs lightly and ruffles his hair affectionately. "Where are Thea and Zechs at?"

"Chess," he replies. He watches as Aria returns to her vanity, sorting through her jewelry. "Are you going out tonight?"

She nods slightly, fingering the ruby necklace thoughtfully. "Yes. Your grandfather has requested my appearance at Romefeller tonight." She frowns at his reflection. "Treize I do not want to see that look on your face again." Deftly she slips the ruby studs in her ears. "You must understand our position now Treize. Landry is dead; you are too young to inherit yet. We _rely_ on my father for support."

"I find that archaic."

She shrugs as she clasps the matching necklace around her neck. "This is the world I was born into, the same world you have been born into. I know you're upset that your grandfather won't let you head the Alliance. You're too young at the moment though. He should have instated a guardian until you came of age. Not passed it on to someone else, what he's done is wrong." She sets the hair pins on the tabletop violently. "He should not have overlooked you."

"Yet you still welcome him with open arms."

"Treize, _please_. If you want to control Romefeller one day learn to curb your tongue and do it quickly. Wear a mask like Zechs does and you'll go far in their world." She stands again, heading to her closet and sorting her dresses. She stops, turning to face him. Her eyebrows are drawn together, her hands clasping the hanger of one of the garments. "Please Treize, you have to understand politics. It isn't as simple as parties and smiles. Think of it like war – you have to have strategy, allies, know when to feint and when to attack."

"Of course, Mother."

"Treize…" The clock on the mantle chimes and she glances at it. "I have to get ready but this isn't over." She looks at him hard. "Just remember what I said, alright?"

He nods, bowing slightly before leaving. She stands there for a moment more before sighing and returning to her dresses.

--

It had been Dorothy's idea to take the yacht out. The day is clear after almost a week straight of constant rain. Treize is sipping something out of a blue glass, staring out at the ocean; Dorothy is lying on a towel across the nose of the boat. Zechs sits with his legs dangling between the railings, toes just skimming the water. In his hand is the letter that arrived for him that morning.

"Relena wishes to see me again," Dorothy sighs. She turns over onto her stomach, letting her arm dangle over the side. "Her _mother_ invited me to afternoon tea." Her nose wrinkles and she sits up abruptly. "I _hate_ tea."

"Be quiet Thea," Treize comments, watching as Zechs's shoulders tighten.

"What, I thought you'd be interested." Her bottom lip pouts slightly as she looks up at him but her eyes are calculating. "I obviously did a good job with her."

"Obviously," Zechs replies shortly.

"I'm still not sure _why_ I had to. She's only Darlian's brat."

Zechs stands and disappears into the cabin. Dorothy sniffs but she is smiling as she tilts her head to see her cousin better from under the sunhat Aria had forced on her. Slowly she stretches her pale arms out in front of her, frowning at the freckles speckling them.

"Must you needle him?" Treize demands. He sets the glass down on the table and frowns at her. She shrugs and runs her fingers over the ridges of the thick French braid.

"It's not _my_ fault he has paper for skin," she retorts icily. "It's not my fault he's infatuated with her. Next I'll have to shadow Miss Noin, right?"

"She reminds him of his sister," Treize replies quietly.

She stands and looks out at the sea and the house sitting on the coast in the distance. "It's like we're the only ones in the world," she hums, ignoring him for a moment.

Zechs returns, before Treize can respond, sans letter. Treize raises an eyebrow glancing between the younger boy and the cabin but Zechs avoids his eyes. Instead he leans on the rail next to Dorothy and stares at the too-blue water.

"Will you meet with her?" he asks softly.

She hesitates a moment before placing a hand on his. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes. I think it would be best if she had allies in Romefeller, in case someone thinks she resembles Relena Peacecraft a little too much, and you're a good one." His lips quirk into a smile and he tugs on her braid. "Even if you are a pain." Her eyes narrow and he chuckles drily. "Thank you Dorothy."

"Oh, don't think I'm doing it out of _niceness_."

"Never," Zechs agrees with a fond smile.

"And who cares if she resembles your sister?" she adds. "Everyone knows she died in that fire." His face turns impassive but she doesn't notice. "So the Vice Foreign Minister decided to name her after the girl, so what? _Everyone_ in Romefeller is named after someone after all." She pulls off her hat and sets it on her towel followed by her sandals and over sized sunglasses. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She swings her legs over the rail and dives in.

"You shouldn't swim by yourself!" Treize calls.

"You're up there, not that I'd trust you _two_ to save me if I started to drown," she snorts. "You're probably going to play _grown-up_ and talk like I'm not there. So I'd rather enjoy myself as it were."

"It amazes me that she knows us so well," Zechs chuckles drily. Treize smiles as well and they turn away from the rail and the ocean (they both know she is adept at reading lips when she wants to).

"You're still angry about the ball, aren't you?" Treize questions softly. His voice is masked by the waves and Dorothy's splashing. "You wanted me to decline Relena's inclusion."

"Yes." His hands are clenched around the rail behind him so that the knuckles are white. "At first," he amends. "But I meant what I said before to Dorothy. If things…" He takes a breath and stares at the white cabin across from them. "You know how they act more than I do. She has…She has the same name that my sister did."

"Ah, yes. But she doesn't look a thing like you," Treize replies. He raises an eyebrow as Zechs stares at the floor. "Something the matter?"

"No." He takes a deep breath and turns to stare at the house on the horizon. "If things go…wrong though," he says slowly. "If they do think she's a survivor, she'll need someone other than the Darlians to support her. Dorothy could do that."

"If she doesn't throw her to the wolves first," Treize chuckles drily. Zechs turns, glaring. "Ah, but I'm sure she won't of course. It's not in her nature." He turns his head slightly to look at her. She's floating on her back, her eyes closed and face tilted to the sun. "She likes to use them first, manipulate them for her own purposes before she discards them."

"Just like you then," Zechs responds.

"Ah, you've caught on then," Treize comments idly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Plotting, underaged drinking.  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs.  
**Note:** Chapter six. Sorry for the late update. RL was a real pain this past week.  
**Chapter:** Six: Summer  
**Chapter Summary:** In which Dorothy has a playdate, Noin threatens bodily harm, Zechs listens, and Treize is out of line.

* * *

"Relena," Mrs. Andrea Darlian calls. "Relena!" She crosses the veranda and looks out to the back garden. A smile finds its way to her face when she sees her daughter lying on her stomach and staring into the fish pond. The girl's feet kick in the air every so often. "Ah, there she is," she sighs.

"I see." Andrea looks down to where the other young girl is standing next to her. She looks completely poised, not unlike her own daughter who is passive and shy both at home and away. She smiles at the girl reassuringly. "Shall I go down to see her?"

"If you want." Her smile falters as a frown creases her brow. She wonders if all the politicians' children act too old for their years. "She'll be very happy to see you," she adds.

"Well then," Dorothy announces, "I shan't keep her waiting." There's a smile on her face that Mrs. Darlian can't read as she skips down the stairs and across the lawn. "Relena!" she calls as she approaches.

Relena's head lifts and she smiles brightly as she scrambles to her feet. They're too far away for her to hear their conversation but she likes to imagine she can. She watches the way Relena points excitedly to the pond, tugging until Dorothy finally submits to sitting on the mowed lawn. She smiles to herself as Dorothy says something and Relena's laughter carries in the wind.

"Andrea, what are you doing?" She jumps a little in surprise, turning to look at her husband as he approaches.

"Oh, Atticus," she exclaims. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you approach." She smiles again as he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. "She looks like she's having fun, doesn't she?"

Vice Foreign Minister Atticus Darlian frowns slightly, watching his daughter playing with Duke Dermail's granddaughter. The girl has moved over to the rose bush, studying the flowers carefully. He remembers now that the family has a strange fascination with the flowers.

"I told you she would be fine," he responds finally. "Relena's a resilient girl." His eyes are still narrowed though as he watches Relena bouncing about the older girl. Andrea looks at him questioningly. "It's good she has someone her own age," he adds finally.

"But you still aren't happy," she points out knowingly.

"I just can't understand why Dermail's granddaughter would take an interest in her. It makes me worry," he admits. "Dermail is crafty – the whole clan of them is. I thought the grandson would be the one to watch out for, but Dermail hasn't taken an interest in him. _She's_ the one he's interested in; _she's_ the one who's here now with Relena. I find it all a little too convenient."

Andrea laughs softly to cover her nervousness. She knows it won't fool him though, they've been married too long for that to happen, but it gives her comfort nonetheless. "Oh, Atticus," she sighs. She turns her attention back to the two girls as they splash each other with water from the fountain in the garden. "Let them enjoy their childhoods while they have them."

--

Duke Dermail frowns when he finds Treize in the library. The boy is bent over an oak desk, maps and charts spread across the wooden surface. He tugs at his moustache for a moment before closing the door. Treize didn't lift his head or acknowledge his presence in any way. Dermail's frown increases.

"Have you forgotten your manners Boy?" he demands.

Treize's shoulders tighten as he sits up, meeting his grandfather's eyes. "Excuse me Grandfather, I did not hear you enter," he replies. He stands and walks around the desk. "Is there something that you need?"

"What are you working on?" Dermail asks instead. He peers over the boy's shoulder at the papers covering the table. "Where did you get these?"

"The library in Corsica," Treize replies evenly. He tilts his head, staring at Dermail insolently. "I borrowed them before I was dismissed for leave."

Dermail chuckles drily. "Does General Cavanaugh _know_ you borrowed them?" His finger absently traces the coastline of Italy and France.

"Of course he does," Treize snaps. He takes a deep breath and plasters on a smile. "I am not a common thief." Dermail chuckles again and Treize allows a brief, real smile. "I was simply interested in the layout of the world and where our Bases and Institutes are."

"Hm…" Dermail studies him carefully. "Cavanaugh was always an idiot." He snorts and shakes his head. "Good to see you're up to your old ways though Boy. Now, where is your cousin?"

"Thea?" Treize questions. He shrugs and turns back to the charts. "With Zechs I presume, I haven't seen them."

"The two of them hang out a lot?" Duke Dermail questions. He locks eyes with his grandson again. Treize nods slowly. "Ah, well then." He nods to himself. "Zechs did well at the Academy, didn't he? Think he'll keep it up?" Again Treize nods. "You're lucky you made a friend with him Treize, where did you meet him again?"

Treize frowns, as if trying to remember. "In Sank, before it fell," he answers finally. "His parents were teaching him the way of politics and negotiations. They were visiting when it fell."

"Pacifists?" Dekim laughs. "Ah, they went down with the Palace, did they? Good thing Zechs doesn't share the same sentiments then. He's an ace that one." His laugh fills the room. "If you see Dorothy tell her I'm ready to leave – school waits for no one."

"Of course Grandfather."

"And you…you keep on with whatever it is you're doing." He rests his hand heavily on Treize's shoulder. "And watch out for your mother, she's very delicate these days." Before Treize could respond Dermail had patted his shoulder once and turned on his heel, striding from the room. "Those charts are valuable Treize, _do not_ mess them up," he calls over his shoulder.

--

Dorothy squints, hands steady as she raises the gun. Zechs watches her from the sideline before he presses the button on the control in his hand. With a pop the disc flies out, spinning into the air. Dorothy doesn't hesitate as she pulls the trigger. The clay pigeon spirals down and disappears into the ocean.

"Again!" she calls. Zechs obeys, releasing each disc as she hits the previous one. She lowers the rifle and holds it carefully in her hands before smiling at him. "Nice try with the triple at the end."

"You still shot them," Zechs replies. He watches as she kneels in the grass, zipping the rifle back into its leather case. Her fingers trace the _D.C._ branded into it and there's a smile on her face. "Dorothy?" he questions.

"Do you think Treize is done holing himself up in the library like some scholar?" She laughs at that and he wants to ask her what's funny. He doesn't, sitting on the grass instead, head tilted back to study the clear blue of the sky. "Are you happy to be going back to Lake Victoria?" she asks softly.

"Of course," he replies immediately. Her eyes narrow and he shrugs. "I like to study."

"Yes, of course." Her lips turn up at the corners as she settles herself against an aged oak tree. "Africa," she sighs. Her fingers pull at shoots of grass, tangling them together. "It's so far away."

"Not that far," he argues. "Not by plane anyway."

"Because I can visit in a plane whenever I want," she snorts. "You'll be in Africa and Treize will be in Corsica learning to be a general or something. I'll be here, with _Tim_," she laments. He eyes her and she huffs quietly, arms crossed. "I just…"

"What?"

"You'll tell Treize and he'll laugh," she mutters. He continues to stare at her and she looks away, studying a lady bug crawling over a blade of grass. He nudges her lightly and she sighs. "It's just…sometimes I wish I could be someone else. I wish I could do what I wanted to do, not what was expected of me." Her eyes meet his. "Understand?"

"Yeah, I do." He ruffles her hair before crossing his arms behind his head. "Trust me, I understand."

--

Zechs pauses, leaning against the tree to stay out of the sun. From his vantage point he can see the students entering through the front gate as they return from leave. He tilts his head slightly, watching the crowd for the familiar sight of dark hair, a flash of purple eyes.

"Looking for anyone in particular?" He whirls but no one is there. "Look up."

"_Noin_," he nearly growls. She laughs and swings out of the tree easily. Before he can react she hugs him and then pulls away, still smiling. "What…?"

"Nothing, I just missed you. And you jumped." She smirks and he just _knows_ he won't hear the end of it anytime soon. She mirrors his previous position, arms crossed over her chest as she scans the various heads. "So who're we looking for? Khushrenada, Darlian, Catalonia, or…?"

"No one."

"Oh, come on!" she protests. She stares at him imploringly.

"I was looking for you," he admits. He's rewarded with a bright grin and she pushes away from the tree happily. "Did you have a good leave?" he questions. They're making their way toward the lake now. He watches as she shrugs slightly.

"It was usual. What about you and The Cousins?" He chuckles and her eyes narrow. "Oh, come on, you _know_ they're beastly." He raises an eyebrow and she flushes a little. "Okay, he's charming and she's as polite as can be. But they're like _snakes_ Zechs. They hypnotize you so you don't even realize you're being eaten!" She picks up a smooth stone and skips it across the lake expertly.

"They would be flattered if they heard you say that," he replies. He tugs his hair back into a low ponytail as he searches the ground for a proper stone.

"I don't understand why you like them," she mutters. Her next stone falls flat, plummeting beneath the water after one skip. He's silent and she sighs loudly, nudging him with her shoulder. "You _can_ tell me things, you know? I'm not some gossip," she mumbles. He chuckles quietly and she rolls her eyes. "Do you know when Orientation is?"

"Fourteen-hundred hours," he replies. She nods and there's a glint in her eyes he's learned to be wary of. "Noin?"

"Let's see…judging by the sun it's twelve-hundred now…two hours? That's plenty of time to beat you in a sparring match." Her grin widens as he pales slightly behind dark glasses. "What, scared?" she challenges. "Come on, I still owe you for the one you pulled last term. At least _you_ won't be marked down when you lose."

"You _let_ me win," he retorts.

Her smile is still pleasant as she shifts her weight equally. "What makes you think I won't this time?"

--

"I _hate_ Instructor Halice," Noin growls. Zechs looks up as she storms across the field and collapses next to him on the boulder. "Thirty _laps_," she continues. She hurls a stone into the lake.

"You nearly took his head off throwing that knife," he reminds her. Her glare focuses on him.

"Because _you_ ducked." He chuckles and she shoves him irritably. He continues to laugh from his position on the ground by her feet. "Did you start on mathematics yet?"

"I finished the first twenty problems but..." he trails off, looking at her. She smirks knowingly. "You _are_ better at math."

"I know." She's still smiling as she pulls out her notebook. "Zechs, can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he replies. She nudges him with her foot and he smiles. "Yeah, okay, what?" He slides back onto the boulder, flipping through the workbook.

"How do you know Treize?" He stiffens beside her and she looks at him. "It's just...what with Specials and all. I was just curious if _that's_ how you knew him."

"No," he answers slowly. "I met Treize a long time ago. When Specials was just an idle thought." He finds the right page and frowns at the problem. "Any more questions?"

She hesitates again before looking back at her notebook. "Have you told your parents about Specials?"

"No." He still doesn't look at her and she sighs.

"Just one more?"

"Why not?" he mutters. She ignores his tone and presses her shoulder into his. "What is it?"

"Are you ever going to tell me more about yourself?"

He doesn't answer and she frowns, wondering if he's avoiding her question. Finally he takes a deep breath and turns to face her. His forehead is wrinkled and she _knows_ he's studying her. She tries to look unconcerned. He smiles faintly and shrugs.

"I...think I might," he says finally. She rolls her eyes and he nudges her back. "Can we focus on math now?"

She looks ready to protest. He half expects her to if he's honest. She sighs though and chews her eraser. "Fine," she mumbles. "But I _will_ learn more about you," she warns. "Now, look, this is easy. All that's needed is the square root multiplied then divided by the cubed root..."

He nods along, like he's absorbing everything. But he watches her carefully, studying her face and listening to her words. By the time she's done explaining he's almost convinced himself that he might be able to confide in her someday. Maybe when he's avenged his family, he thinks. She pokes his ribs with her elbow.

"Are you listening to me?" she demands irritably.

"Of course Noin, I always listen," he answers. She grins in response.

--

The door bangs open roughly and her head snaps up in surprise. Monsieur Dupont's head raises as well, his eyes extra-wide behind his glasses. She recognizes the footsteps as they stride from the door toward the front of the room. She recognizes the look of fright Monsieur is trying to hide. She suppresses a smile and raises the book slightly to cover the lower half of her face.

"My Lord!" Monsieur Dupont exclaims. He stands so hastily that his chair almost tips over. His thick fingers try to discreetly tug away the wrinkles in his shirt. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"You will have to excuse me Monsieur," Duke Dermail barks roughly. Dorothy raises her eyes as her grandfather turns to look at her. "I have an important lesson to teach my granddaughter." Monsieur Dupont looks ready to protest but bites his tongue just in time. Her grandfather's eyes narrow around the corners and she shivers in anticipation. "I am _sure_ your lessons are valuable, but there is only so much one can learn from a book."

He turns on his heel, striding from the room. "Dorothy!" he calls at the door. She flashes a cold smile to her teacher before leaping nimbly to her feet and chasing after her grandfather. She slows to a walk once she catches up to him, making sure her shoulders are squared, her chin parallel to the marble floor beneath her feet.

"Where are we going Grandfather?" she questions finally. They exit the large front doors and stand on the front steps until the driver opens the door to the black car.

"After you, Dorothy." Her grandfather still does not look at her and she frowns. She slides into the car carefully, smoothing her skirt nervously as he gets in next to her. She wishes the slamming of the car door didn't sound half as ominous as it does. The car starts to move and she snaps her seatbelt in place. "Ah…Dorothy."

Duke Dermail reaches for the liquor cabinet built into the car. She watches as he pulls out the bottle of cognac and a small glass. Her nose wrinkles as he pours the liquid into the tumbler before replacing it in the hidden compartment. He doesn't say anything else for awhile, simply stares straight ahead and swirls the liquor around.

"Grandfather?" she questions softly. His eyes return to her and there's a small smile at the corners of his mouth. It doesn't reach his eyes though. "What is it?" She forces the tremble from her voice. "Has somebody else died?"

He chuckles at that, patting her head lightly. "No, no Dear. No one else has died." He frowns though and she doesn't believe him. "It is time you learned one of life's lessons though."

She frowns, not understanding. "Where are we going Grandfather?" she repeats.

"It seems that we have a traitor in our midst Dorothy. We are on our way to view his execution at the military base in Marseille."

"Marseille?" she demands in surprise. Her eyes stare at him and he smiles fondly at her.

"That's my girl," he replies. "Not at all worried about witnessing an execution but about the time it'll take you away from your studies." She opens her mouth to respond, to explain that it's really just that Marseille is _so_ far from home and she hasn't packed anything. "Don't worry Dorothy," he soothes. "We'll just take a private jet there and back after this unpleasant business has passed. You'll be home in plenty of time for supper."

He pats her head again and she can't help but feel a bit like a well behaved dog. She resists the urge to growl and instead turns her attention to the scenery passing by. She frowns at her reflection until the fear is erased from her eyes and her lip stops quivering. Her grandfather obviously thinks her mature enough to handle this; she doesn't want to disappoint him.

--

"An unfortunate occurrence," General Cavanaugh comments idly. He shifts slightly, watching as two orderlies lift the body of the traitor onto the waiting gurney. "It's a shame, he had real potential."

"Don't they all?" Treize questions. Cavanaugh nods in assent. There's a commotion from the observation deck across from them and Treize frowns. Cavanaugh turns to look as well. A young man in military dress is hurrying toward them looking anxious.

"You, soldier!" Cavanaugh exclaims. The young man stops, nearly tripping on his boots. Treize represses a smile; he knows the General can look intimidating. Cavanaugh stands to his full height, glowering down at the soldier, his red hair as wild and untamable as usual. "Where are you running off to?"

"Sir!" the soldier salutes. "I've been sent to fetch a doctor. A girl collapsed during the execution."

"A girl?" Cavanaugh demands. "What's a child doing at proceedings such as these?"

"I don't know Sir. Duke Dermail brought her." He shifts. "Excuse me." He hurries off without waiting to be dismissed.

"What was Dermail thinking, bringing a child here?" Cavanaugh growls. He pushes through the crowd and Treize follows behind him. There's a ring of soldiers and officers all murmuring. Dermail is standing on the side.

"Where the Hell is the doctor?" he barks.

"Dorothy!" Treize yells. He shoves through the crowd. "Let me through, that's my cousin."

"Treize." His arm is seized roughly and he's jerked back. He glowers as Dermail pulls him close. A doctor appears suddenly, kneeling next to her and feeling for a pulse. "Give her space Treize."

"What is she doing here?" he demands. There are murmurs behind him and the lieutenant to his left coughs into her gloved hand. "What is _she_ _doing here?_"

"She'll be fine with some rest. We need a gurney here and some oxygen!" the doctor calls out impatiently.

"Thank you Doctor," Duke Dermail murmurs. "I trust my granddaughter to you. Treize, come." He drags his grandson from the observation deck and into one of the offices. "You," he growls. "You have no say in this Boy. I am simply educating Dorothy to the best of my ability. Dorothy _will_ be an asset, unlike you. Your mother let you go soft, a pity."

"She's _eight_," Treize emphasized. "She doesn't need to see an execution, she saw her mother die!"

"You are out of line Treize," Dermail yells. He stands up straighter, glowers down at his grandson. "I am going to the hospital with Dorothy. You are going back to Corsica." He narrows his eyes dangerously. "You are dismissed."

Treize bites his tongue as his grandfather shoves past him out the door. He closes his eyes and counts to ten and remembers what his mother said over the summer. Then he lets his face turn neutral before exiting the room. He reminds himself that in order to get his plan to work his grandfather must not suspect anything.

He doesn't think that will be hard to accomplish.


	7. Chapter 7

**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** None  
**Characters:** Dorothy, Treize, Zechs, Noin.  
**Note:** Chapter Seven. OMG, an update! I know, I'm in shock too.  
**Chapter:** Seven: Plotting  
**Chapter Summary:** In which Dorothy overhears plans, Noin beats Zechs (again), and Treize is curious.

* * *

She is not sneaking, that's what she tells herself. She is simply taking a midnight stroll through the shadows of the house. There is no shame in that. She doesn't believe it though – especially as she ducks into an alcove when she hears a door open down the hall. She crouches behind the bust of her father's great-great-great-grandfather.

"Dermail, I don't think this is necessary," Alexander grumbles. She recognizes her father's voice immediately and shrinks back into the shadows. Silently she chews the end of her braid even though she's been told repeatedly not to. "You make it like it's some sort of grand secret." Alexander laughs heartily.

"Be quiet Alexander, you don't want to attract the attention of the servants. That's the last thing we want – those gossipers listening in," Dermail grumbles. Dorothy swallows and leans forward to try and see them. They're standing in the open doorway and by the way the light dances she supposes they've lit a fire. It makes her remember the cold and her bare feet and she shivers.

"What is this about Dermail? It's late and I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow. Damn Noventa and his ideas…"

"This is a bit more serious than some foolhardy old man with his own mind," Dermail hisses. "Now, come away from the door and let us be civilized Alexander. I see no reason this shouldn't benefit _both_ of us. After all, I have _always_ treated you as a son, haven't I?"

Their voices fade as they disappear and the door closes once more. She takes a deep breath before slipping past the marble sculpture and down the cold floor. Her nightdress is thin and she shivers again from the cold creeping in through closed windows. She wishes she had remembered her robe. Quietly she kneels down and presses her ear to the warm wood of the door.

"…Dorothy has her uses," Dermail is saying. "You know I adore her Alexander. She reminds me so much of Lilla lately…"

"Yes, she does, doesn't she?" Her father's voice is fond and musing and a chill seeps down her spine. "She is a…asset surely."

"Surely," Dermail agrees immediately. There's the clink of glasses. "Dorothy is a rosebud on the brink of blossom. She'll be lovely when she's older…but she's a girl." Her teeth grind. "She isn't fit for battle or for tactics, just look at the disturbance she caused in Marseille. _Timothy_ is."

"Now…I don't think…Dorothy is a mature girl. She's got her mother's spirit and my cunning. She's a good shot too." Dermail snorts. "What of Treize then?" her father questions.

"Treize? Aria's let him go soft; I don't know what she was thinking. I always thought she had more brains then that. Evidently I was mistaken." Another clink as the wind howls. "Treize will be disposed of as seen fit once he's served his purpose. But if we are to insure that power remains with us, we _must_ start on Timothy as soon as possible. I will not have him being influenced by Treize, or even Dorothy to an extent."

"I have to think on this Dermail, these are _my_ children you're talking about."

"Have it your way Alexander, just remember I can't protect you from The Committee for much longer. Noventa _will_ eventually be able to bring up those charges of war crimes and it may be sooner than you expect." She hears a sigh and scampers back to her alcove before the door opens. "Think on it – I head for my house in the afternoon."

Before the door closes once more she sees her father glare at the glass in his hand. She dashes back to her room, the sound of breaking glass echoing in her ears.

--

Milo is breathless when he reaches them. Zechs quirks an eyebrow and Noin crosses her arms. It takes a few moments before he regains his breath and stares at them with a frightened look. "Halice just informed us that _Treize Khushrenada_ will be here to see our tests at the end of the month!" he pants.

"He'll be judging?" Noin questions. She moves her pawn and Zechs frowns at it. "Or will he just be looking at the results?"

"No, he'll be judging. Halice said he'd be the primary judge too." Milo sinks onto the bench next to Zechs and stares at the board forlornly. "This is a damper," he grumbles. His grey eyes focus on the black and white pieces finally. "Who's winning? Noin again?"

"Of course," she replies happily. Her bishop moves into place. "Check."

Zechs mutters under his breath. "Damn." He squints at the board, trying to see a way of rescuing his king.

Milo rolls his eyes. "Give it up Zechs, ya know she always wins." Noin grins brightly.

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Zechs growls. He takes a breath and moves his knight.

Milo grins at Noin. "Hers, of course."

"Smart move," Noin replies, "checkmate."

--

"Your grandfather invited us for Christmas this year," Aria comments. The old cook, Chef Fournier, places the tray of Cornish hens down on the table smartly. "These look lovely."

"Thank you Madame," he replies. His voice is deep and monotone, brittle around the edges from too many years spent yelling at assistants. Silently he places a small hen on each of their plates before replacing the silver cover over the tray. "Bon appétit." He disappears back into the kitchen.

"I presume you already told him yes."

"I did." Treize watches as she efficiently cuts into the chicken. Juice with faint traces of blood ooze out and the meat looks raw and bleeding. Her light eyes lift to regard him. "You _will_ be on your best behavior Treize. You are the head of this family, or will be one day soon. I will not have you embarrassing yourself or your father's, may he rest in peace, name. Is that understood?"

"Yes, of course Mother." His eyes turn to his own bird and he sighs. "Tell Chef that it looks delectable but I am not feeling well. I will see you in the morning. Good night Mother."

He starts to stand but her voice cuts in. "You have not been excused, Treize."

"Quite right, but since I am the head as you just pointed out I no longer need permission, do I?" He smiles at her, pats her chilled hand, and stands fully. "Enjoy your meal, Mother."

He leaves the dining room and heads out onto the back terrace. The garden is illuminated with the soft glow of iron lamps and he can hear the Mediterranean churning just out of sight. Every so often the moon drifts out from behind the clouds and catches on the restless water. He leans against the iron railing and stares out into the dark.

The wind brings with it the last traces of summer laced with the icy breath of winter. He can just make out the spot where he, Zechs, and Dorothy had made the bonfire just a few months ago. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and his knuckles turn white from the grip he has on the banister as he remembers.

--

Instructor Halice is grinning at them. It isn't a pleasant look on him. He has a thin, pointed face with a thin, pointed nose, thin lips, and squinty eyes that are always narrowed suspiciously – usually in their direction. Lieutenant Roux stands next to him, his eyebrows drawn together in a V as he frowns at them.

"Well, what have you to say for yourselves?" the lieutenant demands. His arms cross over his thick chest as he stares down at them. Incredibly, he's more intimidating than the instructor standing at nearly seven feet tall with dark eyes and clenched teeth. He never speaks, only barks.

"Expulsion," Halice recommends next to him. "They broke Rule 12 in the _Lake Victoria Academy of Academic and Student Conduct Book_."

"We didn't do anything!" Noin exclaims finally. Her violet eyes are narrowed to a point that rivals Halice's squinty looks. "That's a stupid rule anyway."

"Cadet Noin!" Lieutenant Roux barks. "You will speak civilly or not at all, is that understood?" Her mouth sets into a firm, thin line as she glares up at the commander of the school. "Cadet!"

"You told me not so speak if I couldn't be civil, Sir."

Zechs' lips quirk up into a smile and he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Her small hands are fisted at her sides and her head is tilted back in defiance. "Do you find this _amusing,_ Cadet Merquise?"

"No, Sir," he answers softly. "Noin's right though, we were just studying for the Biology test Instructor Drei is giving us on Friday."

"That is all well and good Cadets, but as Instructor Halice has noted, Rule 12 of the _Lake Victoria Academy of Academic and Student Conduct Book_ has clearly been broken. Under _no_ circumstances should a member of the female gender be present in the male dormitories. _Nor_," he continues when Noin opens her mouth, "should a male be in the female dormitories. If you two are to study then stick to the common areas or better yet, the library."

"That's ridiculous," Noin exclaims. "Zechs is my best friend, why can't I visit his room?"

"They are clearly disregarding our rules, Lieutenant," the instructor comments. "Expulsion is best; it will teach them not to question authority…"

"Enough, Halice. You may go; you two may take a seat." Instructor Halice shoots them one last gleeful look before disappearing out the door. Lieutenant Roux takes a seat behind his desk. Noin and Zechs take the two chairs across from him. "You two have a penchant for upsetting Instructor Halice," he growls.

"Now, I do not care. Rules are rules. The _only_ way that I will allow this to be broken is if you get permission prior to the event and leave the door open. Is this understood? I would hate to lose not just one but two talented students because they would not follow protocol."

"Yes, Sir," they both answer quickly.

"I would suspend you both but I know that both Treize Khushrenada and Duke Dermail are interested in your continued progress. Do not let this happen again. You are both to report to Detention for the remainder of term and rest assured you each will lose twenty-five merits. Dismissed!"

--

"You remind me of your mother more and more each day, Thea." She looks over to where her father leans against the doorframe to her bedroom. He smiles at her but it doesn't reach his eyes anymore. He has a box in his hands, wrapped up in pink paper and a glittery bow.

"What's that?"

"Brought you a gift for your grandfather's party tonight." He sits next to her on the bed and deposits the box into her lap. Her fingers skim the edges of the wrapping lightly. "Go on, open it."

Carefully she removes the tape and slides the white box out of the paper. She removes the lid and pushes aside the equally pink tissue paper to reveal a deep green velvet dress. On top of it sits a headband the same color and material as the dress only it is sprinkled with tiny white gems.

"Those are real diamonds there. Only the best for my little girl." She can sense him staring at her as her fingers rub the smooth material absently. "Do you like it?"

"It's very pretty," she admits softly.

"Is something the matter, Thea?" Alexander questions. He lifts her chin and studies her eyes. "You've been distant since your mother's passing. Do you want to talk to someone?"

"I do not need to talk to anybody," she retorts. Her eyes dart away from his though and a moment later his hand is on her shoulder.

"I miss her too, Thea. Every day. But I remember her smile and her laugh, the way she walked and how she smelled. It helps. Find something to help you cope with her loss, Dorothy."

"Does it really help you?" she asks softly. Her eyes search his face but it closes off suddenly.

"Get dressed. The guests will be arriving within the hour." He pats her shoulder and then leans forward to kiss her forehead. "I will see you downstairs."

--

Treize watches as she dances with first her father and then their grandfather. Her smile is wide and bright but her eyes look calculating and quick. By the time the orchestra switches songs he knows she has the entire congregation of party goers memorized. He smiles as she approaches him.

"Dorothy."

"Treize." They stand there for a moment and he catches sight of the locket around her neck. Her eyes flick behind him and her smile widens. "Zechs."

"Hello Dorothy, it's good to see you again."

"Of course it is." Her eyes sparkle and Treize raises an eyebrow at her. She ignores his look and twirls a curl around her finger until her cousin reaches out and pins it behind her ear. Her eyes flit to Treize's and she raises an eyebrow. "I did not expect to see you here."

"Of course I'd be here. Mother said we'd come." As one they all look over to where Aria is laughing with Lord Willard Dubiel. Dorothy shudders and turns her attention back to the boys. "How has Grandfather been treating you?"

"Well enough. I _am_ the favorite." Her voice is smugger than she feels and she's grateful for that. Zechs chuckles as Treize's face darkens.

"Lighten up, Treize," Zechs admonishes. He nudges Treize and smiles at him. "You know she's only teasing."

"Of course she is." His eyes narrow as he takes Dorothy's arm in hand. She frowns back at him. "And how are your lessons."

"Well enough," she repeats. She wrenches her arm free. "You'll crinkle my new dress." Dorothy's face pales suddenly and Treize turns to see what's caught her attention. Aria and Lord Dubiel approach. Aria smiles at the three of them.

"Willard, this is my son, Treize. Of course you know Dorothy. And this is Zechs, a friend of Treize's. He's at Lake Victoria Academy."

"Is he now? Well, that's very good." Lord Dubiel runs a hand through his dark hair and smiles charmingly at them. "Miss Dorothy, I was wondering if you would grace me with a dance."

"I would be delighted." She smiles up at him as he takes her hand, leading her out onto the dance floor. His hand is sweaty and she fights to keep her nose from wrinkling. He's clumsy on his feet as well and she grimaces as his oversized shoes squish her feet.

"Terribly sorry," he repeats. "Can't keep up with a dainty elf like you."

"Don't worry; I'm used to dancing with Treize." He chuckles at that and gives her a little spin. She giggles and then quickly schools her face into one of polite interest. "Are you enjoying Grandfather's party?"

"Yes, the food is wonderful and the company enchanting." He offers her another smile that she returns halfheartedly. When they pass the spot they'd started from she notices that Zechs and Treize have disappeared again. Despite herself she feels a pang of sorrow. "And what about you, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, yes. It's a wonderful party."

--

Zechs tugs at his hair nervously before straightening his shoulders and clasping his hands firmly behind his back. Treize stands in front of him, scrutinizing him from across the coffee table. He had been led into the library fifteen minutes ago and since then Treize had not spoken to him once. Zechs can feel the nervousness crawling up the inside of his stomach. He swallows hard.

"Do you like Thea, Zechs?" Treize finally asks. His face is neutral, giving no hint to the motivation behind his question. Zechs blinks back at him owlishly.

"Dorothy's okay. She's had a rough patch."

"There's no doubt that Dorothy is…troubled," Treize murmurs. "My question though was do you like her."

"I guess. She's okay," Zechs repeats. His fingers fiddle with the back of his suit jacket. Treize lifts an eyebrow and studies him silently. Zechs's eyes widen as he finally gets the meaning behind the words. "Wait, you mean as…as in romantically?" When Treize remains silent Zechs chuckles softly before surrendering to the laughter and doubling over.

"I'll take that as a no then?"

"Have you gone round the bend?" he demands. His chest heaves as he intakes much needed oxygen. "She's three years younger than me! I think of her as a sister, a friend. I am not…I'm too young to even think of her that way!" he protests.

Treize nods and sits, waving for Zechs to do the same. "I simply wanted to be sure." He leaves out his suspicions that Dorothy's feelings are not quite so amicable. Or that he feels Zechs's are possibly deeper than he's admitting. For now it doesn't matter. "Now, I have received word that Dorothy has fallen out of favor with my grandfather. It seems the old man is turning his attentions to Timothy."

"Does Dorothy know?"

"I'm not sure at the moment. She doesn't seem to but that means nothing these days." He retrieves a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "This is a list of students currently enrolled at Lake Victoria. I would like your help in contacting them to see about their interests in Specials. Discretely. We don't need you in any more trouble with Halice or Roux." A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That was a onetime incident," Zechs protests. "We did nothing wrong, they overreacted."

"Of course. And I had to pull favors; you both owe me, Milliardo." Zechs glowers but Treize ignores him. "Once you've finished contacting them just destroy the list. In fact if you can memorize it and then destroy it then that would be even better."

"Of course." He smirks as he stretches his legs out to rest on the wooden coffee table. His dress shoes leave scuff marks on the polished surface. It seems to brighten Treize's mood considerably. "Anything else, Your Excellency?" he mocks.

"Well, you could dance with my cousin." Zechs chuckles drily as he places the folded up paper in his inside jacket pocket.


End file.
